


souls that dream alone

by shizuoh



Series: love is brightest in the dark (a:tla au) [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Airbending & Airbenders, Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, AtLA AU, Child Hinata Shouyou, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, avatars learning their place in the world and figuring out their legacies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27232900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shizuoh/pseuds/shizuoh
Summary: A legacy isn't an easy thing to live up to.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou & Hinata Shouyou
Series: love is brightest in the dark (a:tla au) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830580
Comments: 1
Kudos: 61





	souls that dream alone

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really want to call this a filler installment, but that's kind of what it is. i just wanted to offer some perspective on how shouyou feels being uprooted from his home and then suddenly having to face this grand destiny. eventually we'll get into the actual plot, but for now, enjoy some baby hinata angst and some brotherly bonding.

The Avatar sanctuary is old and decrepit from years of having nobody to maintain them. They’re slowly improving now — he’s seen the elders and acolytes scrub away overgrown moss and file away imperfections — but the underlying fact is that they’re still  _ old _ . Passed away and gone from this world.

(The only evidence they’ve left on the world is him. Their reincarnation, their next chance, their next life.)

There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of statues lined up in circles, reaching as far up to the very top of the building. There is a painted line that connects each statue as they fall to the next Avatar, but no descriptions, no names — just their bodies. Shouyou wonders if each one posed for their statue, or if it was just based off a rough imitation of what the sculptor believed them to look like.

There is no space for him. The statues end in a tight circle after the previous Avatar, leaving no more room. He can barely fit himself, despite how small he is, and wonders if he will ever grow as big as some of the statues around. 

Shouyou knows nothing about his past lives and yet he knows everything at the same time. He can look at a statue and remember a name, a face, a friend and a lover, and maybe even the first sighting of the sun upon birth — but details are shaky. It’s like skimming a book, only picking up on the most obvious details. 

(Just how much of the previous Avatars are in him, he wonders. Is it just their energy? Their power? Or do they spend their afterlife looking through his eyes? If they are connected to the Spirit World, he wonders just how close they could possibly be to him at any moment.)

_ You’re probably too young to know how to contact your past lives, _ his elders have told him before. Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t even need to contact them. His face is reflected in each and every statue, and even if it is just wholly stone, he can feel warmth underneath the reflexive chill — almost like there’s a heartbeat singing to him.

These Avatars lived in an era before cars and concrete and smog. They lived in bloodshed, in violence, in fear, in persecution. Maybe those things are totally gone today — maybe not as much as some people like to believe — but the war is over. The war is over.

Shouyou prays the war is over.

* * *

The war is over, and yet the world still demands an Avatar. 

Shouyou overhears the way the elders talk to one another about the outside world. He’s supposed to be isolated from it as he learns airbending, but he’s curious. He sneaks into the library and reads the books and eavesdrops on conversation he knows he’s not supposed to be hearing. He doesn’t always understand them —  _ you’re still young, _ Koutarou always says, as if he himself is not a child too — but he knows enough to put two and two together.

The war is over, but the world is still torn apart by its aftermath. It’s been years, and nobody’s stepped up to make the effort to try and reconnect the nations again. The monarchs of each nation remain in power and exploit their own citizens to keep it. Instead of rising up and taking responsibility for themselves, the people want an Avatar to do their work for them. To restore balance once again. To do what the previous Avatar died trying to.

( _ He’s only a child, _ he remembers the elders saying to one another.  _ He still has years to go before he’s ready. _

_ The world may not have years left, _ argued one back.)

He doesn’t want to be the Avatar. He wants to be the Avatar. He wants to be important, and powerful, and recognized, but the thought of the entire world’s expectations riding on his shoulders gives him too much anxiety — more than a child should have.

It’s terrifying. It’s lonely. He doesn’t think he could ever do any of this by himself.

* * *

(He misses the city. He misses the lights, the music, the sounds, and even the smells. He misses the simplicity of waking up every morning the same view, the same faces, the same routine. In the air temples, there is always someone new. Always someone coming and going.

It feels like years ago. There used to be a time where he could wake up and not have to worry about anything except for what his mother was cooking. He could walk down the street and say hello to those passing through. He could play with the local kids and kick a ball around without having to worry about airbending it too hard.

Now he wakes up and worries about the entire world, about his legacy, about how strong he is and isn't. Now he wakes up with the images of lives gone past. His head feels too heavy than it should be.)

* * *

One day, Koutarou notices his blank stare. The two of them are going back and forth on bending a gust of air around their bodies, practicing manipulation of the space around him, but he’s distracted. 

Usually his brain is running a thousand thoughts a minute. Right now, he can only focus on one, daunting image. The previous Avatar before him. Shouyou knows next to nothing about them — if they were alone, how they died, what their life was like, what their favorite food was — and yet, he knows he’s expected to live up to their legacy. 

(They died ending a hundred-year war, and Shouyou is barely eight years old.)

“Hey,” Koutarou says, breaking the silence. He reaches his hand out and gently knocks on the crown of Shouyou’s head. “Anyone home?”

“No,” he replies stubbornly.

Koutarou laughs like he was expecting that response. “Alright then,” he says, and stops bending. “C’mon then, why don’t we sit a minute?” Not waiting for an answer, he takes Shouyou’s hand and gently leads him down so the two of them are sitting criss-crossed facing one another. Then, instead of letting go of his hand, his eyes trail down to the still-oversized robes. He takes Shouyou’s wrist and gestures for him to keep holding it up as he starts folding down the edges of the sleeves, making it short enough so it doesn’t catch on his hands.

As he finishes folding the other sleeve, Shouyou takes a deep breath, and says, “Do you know anything about the Avatar before me?”

Koutarou hesitates. He taps Shouyou’s wrist to let him know he can drop his arm, and then slouches a bit (Shouyou unconsciously copies him). “Well,” he sighs, “not much. Apparently he was real private about his life. He had to hide constantly because he was a firebending Avatar fighting against the Fire Nation.”

Shouyou blinks. He never thought of that.

“There’s rumors on how he actually died.” Koutarou taps at his chin thoughtfully. “Some say he was executed by the Fire Lord for treason. Some say he died from an illness. But the general consensus is that he died because he ended the war.”

“Maybe he decided he had nothing else to do,” Shouyou offers quietly.

“... Maybe,” Koutarou says. “I guess you can’t really top ending an entire war.”

Shouyou’s face twists in irritation. “Then what am I even doing here?”

Shocked, Koutarou leans back several inches, not used to the suddenly angry look on his student’s face. “What?”

“I can’t top ending a war,” he says, voice low. “People only want me around so I can fix their messes. Clean their rooms.”

“I’m sure they can clean their rooms by themselves,” Koutarou says instantly, and then looks like he regrets it. He closes his eyes and rubs at his neck. “Hm. Well. Maybe you can’t  _ end a war _ … but you can do plenty of other incredible things too. What do you think the Avatars that lived before the war did?”

“I dunno…”

“Exactly!” Koutarou throws his arms up. “We just don’t know what destiny has in store for you.” He lets his hands fall to his lap and shrugs. “And besides, just because the war ended doesn’t mean it’s over.”

Shouyou frowns at that. “I don’t want to stop a war again.”

“ _ Again? _ ” Koutarou echoes, and then snorts. “Well, it’s your call, Avatar. You’re sort of the big man here. What you say goes.”

He isn’t sure how much he likes having that kind of authority. 

Koutarou looks over at the sunset and makes a soft noise. He grunts as he starts to make his way to his feet, then stops midway through, airbending himself the rest of the way up, like he had forgotten he could even do that in the first place. Brushing the dust off his pants, he puts his hands on his hips and says, “C’mon. We’re going to miss dinner if we sit out here any longer.”

Shouyou’s stomach grumbles in reply. He swallows thickly, and airbends himself up. Just as Koutarou smiles and starts to walk away, he steps forward and grabs onto the fabric around his waist. 

“Hm?”

Ignoring his anxiety, Shouyou asks, “Will you come with me?”

Koutarou blinks owlishly. “To… dinner?” he guesses.

Shouyou shakes his head. “No,” he says. “No,” he says again, and inhales so deep he can feel it in his lungs. His face starts to feel hot. “When I leave here,” he clarifies. “When I master airbending and have to go to the next element. Will you come with me?”

Koutarou doesn’t answer for a moment. Then, he turns completely, squats down, and takes both of Shouyou’s hands into his own. Truthfully, Koutarou isn’t  _ that  _ much older than him, but the size difference makes it all the more great. His hands, soft and warm, completely smother his. 

His grip is tight and reassuring when Koutarou smiles and says, “If you’ll have me.”

**Author's Note:**

> [my blog](http://haikuyus.tumblr.com/)


End file.
